Close Call

The bulk of Mr. Stone’s biology class was spent Observing the student body. John had no real reason to pay attention when he could now teach the class himself. Nothing of any real use presented itself, although the skill did hit level 4 in the process. The skill level was about as useful as everything else he’d learned: it now revealed the target’s race. Specifically, it told John that his targets were Human. Besides being something of a misnomer, he wasn’t sure how useful this function would be. It might indicate that there were Elves hiding in plain sight, or it might only mean he would never again confuse a butterfly for a bird. No one so far had come up as anything but what they seemed, but his sample size was too small to make any sound conclusions.

Besides casting Observe, John’s mana had regenerated twice over the course of the hour, and he spent it casting Alter Body on each of his arms. He found it to be frustratingly restrictive, requiring him to target a specific muscle group. For now, he targeted his biceps.

-
<Spell Level Up!>
Alter Body Lv. 2
Modification retroactively raised to 6%
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Outside of the wonderful sensation of energy seeping into his affected parts, the effect was still not noticeable. Neither did it affect his stats in any way, unfortunately.

If my Strength score is the sum of my entire body’s overall strength, it makes sense that a minor buff to only a few parts of it wouldn’t raise the score. Even if do wind up hitting every muscle group eventually, my score is so low that 6% is less than half a point.
Jeez. I have a lot of work to do.

Still, John felt good. He was feeling energetic and optimistic after these few experiments and lifting his bag at the end of class felt easier, even if only slightly. He wondered if this was what confidence felt like, a sensation immediately shattered at the call of a familiar voice.

“Hey, John, buddy!” Frank Dickinson waded through the crowded hall towards John.

So much for my quest…

John winced. He could run, but he already knew that would only make things worse when Frank inevitably caught him. The best thing he could do was to try and not look completely terrified as Frank slammed his shoulder against the wall in a ‘friendly’ gesture. Vanessa followed in Frank’s wake, sashaying her way down the hall with an expression of sheer boredom on her face.

“Just the guy I wanted to see!” Frank said, clasping John’s shoulder in a vice-like grip. “Thing is, I planned to take Vanessa out somewhere nice for lunch today but, just my luck, I’m a little short on cash! You can spot me a few bucks, can’t you, buddy?” Frank punctuated his request with a hammering pat on John’s other shoulder.

John sighed and reached for his back pocket without replying. How much money had he lost to Frank over the last half a year? He’d thought such bullying would have been left behind in High School, but no, his transition to Ashcroft only swapped old tormentors for new. Shame burned in him hotter than ever before. Even his new power was currently useless against Frank. Short on MP as he was, John couldn’t even use Alter Body to take the asshole down a notch. He made a note to keep that in mind as he dug into his pocket and found nothing there.

“What’s the hold up, pal? You don’t want to embarrass me in front of my girlfriend, do you!?” Frank grit his teeth, impatient.

That’s right, my wallet is in my inventory! As far as the rest of the world knows, I don’t have it on me. I don’t even have anything worth stealing. Having an inventory is awesome!

“Sorry, Frank.” John put on a sheepish grin. “I left the house in such a rush today I forgot my wallet at home. Looks like we’re in the same boat, buddy.” For emphasis, John turned and pulled his back pocket inside out.

“Bullshit!” Frank dropped the act and drove John against the wall. “Show me your other pockets, you lying piece of shit.”

Without a chance to actually do so himself, John found himself spun around and pushed face first against the wall while Frank’s sausage fingers rummaged through his empty pockets. More than fear, John felt grossed out by the ogre manhandling his ass and thighs. Mr. Stone stepped out of his classroom nearby, and John gave him a pleading look for help, but the teacher just so happened to make a sharp turn in the opposite direction.

Typical.

“Gimme your bag!” Frank shouted in rising frustration. He yanked John’s bag off his shoulder, unzipped it, and unceremoniously dumped its contents on the ground. The only things in it were pencils and textbooks, one of which landed squarely on Frank’s toes. Frank grunted in pain and spun John back around, seething.

“You don’t get off that easy, fucker!” Frank shouted so close to John’s face he could feel the spittle. He pulled a fist back, Vanessa sighed, and John clenched his eyes shut.

“Frank Dickinson!”

A stern voice called out from the other end of the hallway. When the punch never came, John hesitantly opened his eyes to look for the source of the interruption.

There, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, was Moira Brighton. 2nd Year, Student Council President, and probably the only girl in school who could stand up to Vanessa without fear of retribution. This might have been because the Brightons were also the only family in the small city even wealthier than the Hawthornes. Not only that, but Moira would be stiff competition for Vanessa’s position as hottest girl at school too, had Moira ever displayed any expression besides her near-perpetual frown.

There was a difference between them in that regard, however. Where Vanessa was a hot package of raw sex appeal, with her fat ass, slim waist, precise tan, and DD-cup breasts packed into a dress-code breaking uniform, Moira was beautiful. Moira dressed conservatively, but that did not hide her naturally prominent curves. The school uniform hugged Moira’s torso in a way that accentuated her waist and breasts despite fully covering them (C-cups, if John dared to guess). Her legs were not simply slender but well toned, and her posture was impeccable. Competing for Moira’s best feature were her shimmering emerald eyes and the luxurious waves of her long, brilliantly red hair. The light dusting of freckles over her fair skin was just icing on the cake.

But if the two young women shared one thing, it was their intimidating aura. One did not approach Vanessa Hawthorne or Moira Brighton, they approached you.

“What the fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy talking to my friend here?” Frank snarled.

“Coach Conroy has been looking for you!” Moira shouted back, louder than necessary. “We happened to cross paths and he mentioned you hadn’t showed up at his office for a meeting. Something about discussing the starting line-up?”

“What?” Frank exclaimed, then whispered to himself. “Wait… was that today? What day is it?”

It’s the first day after winter break, you roid-raging troglodyte!

“Whatever! Tell him I’ll be there in a minute!” Frank once again pulled back his fist.

“I have more important duties than to play messenger between Coach Conroy and his favorite ape,” Moira shot back. That comment dyed Frank’s face a deepening shade of red. He turned fully to face Moira, leaving one meaty arm to pin John against the wall.

“What the fuck did you just call me!?” He demanded.

“You will perform the duties that are asked of you and I will perform mine. Which, need I remind you, includes reporting instances of interpersonal ****.” Moira crossed her arms, positively defiant. John had no idea if Moira actually had enough sway to **** Frank to face the consequences of his actions or not, but it was apparently not a risk Vanessa was willing to take.

“Frank, go,” she ordered.

“But, babe!” the star quarterback protested, instantly deflating. “She called me a-”

“Frank!” Vanessa cut him off with a stomp of her foot and a fiery glare. Frank was no match for his girlfriend’s wrathful gaze, even John felt his heartbeat quicken.

“Yeah, yeah.” Frank dutifully obeyed. He let out some of his frustration by slamming John against the wall one more time, leaning in close. “But we’re not done!” he said in a rumbling whisper. At that, he let John go and plowed his way towards the gym. Vanessa followed, but not without making sure to break a few of John’s pencils under her heel.

Moira, content that her duties had been fulfilled, pivoted on the spot and set off down the adjoining hallway without another word. John remained stunned, leaning against the wall for support. It was all he could do to toss an Observe at Moira just before she left sight.

-
Moira Brighton
Level 17 Human Paladin
[Warden of the Golden Rose]
RP: -10
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John found it morosely amusing that -10 was a refreshingly positive score compared to most of the girls around school.

Then the rest of the information hit him.

A Paladin? An actual, functional combat class! And she’s level 17? She can kick my ass into next week! She can kick Frank’s ass! Why is the Student Council President the resident Queen Badass? And what the hell is the Golden Rose?

John stood dumbfounded. This was the first indication he had that he wasn’t the only one with some kind of power. Compounding that issue was the fact that he was apparently behind the curve. John already knew he had to level up, but he hadn’t wondered how to do that until now. Quests awarded experience, but that couldn’t be the only way. Moira was a Paladin. If combat classes existed, so did combat, and that meant EXP. Problem was, John never saw Moira wielding the power of light to smite demons on a daily basis. Who or what did she fight in her spare time to get to such a high level? That was the question John chose to focus on.

Only, getting closer to Moira Brighton would be about as easy as getting on Frank’s good side.

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<New Quest!>
Secrets of the Golden Rose, Stage 1

Learn what the Order of the Golden Rose is.

+100 EXP
+10 RP with members of The Order
1 Rare Item
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